A Mother's Hope
by Elvira379
Summary: On his way through Bree, Aragorn finds a small girl who has been thrown out of her home. The girl holds a certain mystery about her, for everyone seems to want to get a hold of her. She has something they want, but the problem is she doesn’t know what i


Title: A Mother's Hope Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien's characters, places, etc. So please do not sue me for this. I am writing this for fun, and am making no money off of it. All OC's are mine, so please ask permission to use them. Rating: PG (could possibly become R later, dunno) Summary: On his way through Bree, Aragorn finds a small girl who has been thrown out of her home. The girl holds a certain mystery about her, for everyone seems to want to get a hold of her. She has something they want, but the problem is she doesn't know what it is. Non-Slash.  
*Ok, please, I would LOVE feedback, but I beg you, no flames (if you can help it). This is a strange story, and I'll only continue if there is a little interest. Most of this was written at 2:00A.M, so forgive errors and general oddness...*  
  
Chapter One: Of Trust and Introductions  
  
A lone figure, dressed in various hues of deep green, brown and black, walked stealthily through the dark streets of a town. The town was Bree. The man a Ranger. The hood of his weatherstained cloak hung down over his face, hiding his facial features.  
It was cold and blustery, and had just began to rain, except for him, the streets were empty. He had thought of lodging at an inn here, but realising that he was already behind schedule, decided to continue his trek without stopping. His pack was light. Too light. He knew that he should stock up on provisions, but, that would mean waiting until morning, and he couldn't afford to lose that time. He was to meet with his brothers at ________________, and should have been there a day ago. But then there were these orcs.... he knew that he would need some sort of excuse, because, they would become worried if they knew about THAT encounter. He wondered what they would think if they ever found out. The battle had caused him a deep gash in his left arm, that, though bandaged with skill still ached and left a bloodstain on his tunic, along with many other scrapes and scratches, not to mention a throbbing head.  
So, he trudged on, deep in thought. He was brought out of his silent revere when a door was thrust open, and a small girl was hurtled out into the middle of the street.  
"And stay out, you little urchin!!" came a male voice from inside "I told you, mess up, and I'd throw you out! Useless wench! Can't even follow simple instructions. Dolt! Never let me see your accused face again! And if I do..." he added with a sneer, "you will be lucky if you live to regret it, or no. Mabey I'll sell you to them, how would you like that eh? Begone!" and with that the door was slammed and bolted.  
The little girl lay in a shuttering, sobbing heap on the wet and muddy street.  
The ranger hurried over to her side. She opened her eyes, and when they met another set glinting from underneath a dark cloak, tried to back away, whimpering. She cried out in pain when she put pressure on her right arm, and she started to cry harder.  
Clearly seeing that she was frightened, the man pulled back his hood, and gave her a comforting smile.  
This did not help at all.  
Using her left arm she pulled herself she back away from him. Then, her hand slipped in a puddle, and she fell backwards onto her arm, pain causing her to black out.  
Knowing that he could not leave her out there alone, he gently gathered her into his arms and, being cautious of her injured limb, gently wrapped his cloak about her, and headed for the nearest inn.  
Minutes later, seeing the sign of 'Prancing Pony', he quickly headed up the few steps, into the inn and out of the rain. The small child had still not regained consciousness, so he just walked up to the counter with her held limply in his arms.  
Butterbur walked up behind the counter, and eyed the Ranger suspiciously. He had little trust for this man and his kin, and the seemingly dead child he held did little to reassure him.  
"Barliman, I am in need of lodgings for the night, have you any to spare?" Asked the Ranger.  
"Mr. Uh... Mr...... erm... Strider, is it?" asked the uncertain man.  
"Yes, it is."  
"Well, um, Mr. Strider, you see there be no free rooms tonight, so... you'll have to go someplace else." He said shakily.  
"Barliman, I need a room. Now." Strider said in a firm voice.  
"Well, I uh... oh half a moment." said Barliman, finally relenting. He left and returned in a matter of minutes. "Follow me."  
He was led down a hall, and up a flight of stairs and up to a large wooden door. There Butterbur stopped and held the key in his hands. "Here's your room, Strider sir. Um, I was wondering, about the girl, if I may be so bold as to ask..."  
"No, you may not. Now, if you don't mind I will have the key please, and send up some boiling water and something to eat," and seeing the look the innkeeper was giving him, added "you will be paid in full for your troubles."  
Barliman handed him the key, and headed towards the kitchen. Strider unlocked the door to the room, and swiftly entered.  
He walked across the room, and softly lay the child on the bed. There then came a small tapping on the door. He answered it to find that the water and food had been delivered.  
Taking the heated water and pouring it into a bowl, he took out of his pocket some Athelas, which he then crushed in the water. It seemed to make the room tingle with life and hope. He placed the bowl at the head of the bed, and went to check the arm that had been causing the child so much pain before.  
It appeared normal, until he rolled it up a small way. Seeing something very alarming, he took a dagger from his boot, he cut away the material and got a better look at the wound. After doing this, he caught a look at the rest of her arm What he saw horrified him to no extent.  
He entire right hand and forearm was covered by healing cuts, welts and gashes, some of which were bleeding freely. He quickly went and poured the rest of the water into a larger bowl, and crushed most of the athelas he had left into it.  
Taking the bowl he knelt beside the child on the bed, and dipping clean pieces of fabric into the water, began to very gently clean the wounds. By the tome he was done the water was stained a shade of red itself. He set the bowl off to the side, he took pieces of linen from his pack, and wrapped the arm and hand with them.  
Checking the girl over for any other injuries, he found, that her face and the back of her neck had once been badly cut and bruised, and her legs fared no better, but now, all that was left of those wounds were scars. Whatever had happened to this girl had not been pretty. Not to mention that she looked slightly malnourished and dehydrated.  
He then took the bowl from the head of the bed, he carefully cleaned the muddy grime off of her face and neck. After he was done this he disposed of the water. After seeing that the child was properly tended, he sat down on a chair near the door, to wait and think.  
The girl stirred, and in a moment Strider was at her side. Her clear green eyes fluttered open, and filled with terror when she saw the man in black bending over her. She glanced over at her arm, which felt oddly better, and to her surprise, found it cleaned and bandaged. For a moment the terror left her eyes, and was replaced with a look of wonder and curiosity, but within seconds the fear had returned. She slowly sat up using her left arm.  
"How do you feel?" asked Strider with genuine concern.  
She looked taken aback by the question. Avoiding looking him in the face, she said uncertainly, "Better, thank you." and then flinched as if expecting a blow, which made Strider wonder.  
"I'm glad." he said with a smile. "Would you like something to eat?"  
She looked as if she didn't know how to respond, but finally just ended up shaking her head yes.  
He went over to the table, and looked more closely at what Butterbur had sent up for food. There were two apples, some cheese, bread, and a few pieces of cold chicken. Picking up the tray, he walked over to the bedside, and set it down in front of the girl, and said, "Here, eat what you like, I'm not hungry."  
She looked at the food with wide eyes. "All of this...for me?" she asked.  
He nodded. "You don't have to eat it all if you don't want to." but by the time he had said that she had already bitten into an apple.  
"So," he said, "what is your name?"  
There was an awkward silence.  
"Arell. Arell Lothern." she said meekly.  
"That is a very pretty name," she looked at him, stupefied, but he continued to talk. "My name is Strider."  
She giggled, but then stopped looking nervous.  
"What? What's so funny?" he asked, a smile widening across his features.  
"Your name." she replied.  
"What about my name?"  
"It's strange."  
"Oh, I see." he said, laughing too, which surprised the small girl visibly, but then he grew more serious. "So Arell, may I ask you a question?"  
She nodded, but was now trembling slightly.  
"What happened to your arm?"  
Her face grew white, she began to tremble more, and her eyes darted around the room, following phantoms that she alone could see. Tears sprang to her eyes, and began to trickle silently down her small face.  
He moved a little closer, being concerned, and again she again shied away, afraid of him.  
Worry etched his face, for he knew that the memories were obviously painful. He wanted to take away the pain, and make her smile again, but he knew that she needed to talk about what had happened. He knelt beside the bed.  
"It is alright, Arell. You do not have to be afraid of me. I will never, ever, hurt you, I promise." he said, putting one hand over his heart, and taking her good hand in his. "But I think that you need to talk about what happened, or it will keep on hurting. You can trust me." he said all this in the most reassuring voice that she had ever heard, the kind of voice that made her want to tell him everything, but she knew that she couldn't, he wouldn't understand, no one would.  
"I can't." she whispered. "You wouldn't understand."  
"Try me, I'll do my best, okay?"  
"Well....." she took a big shaky sigh. "Alright. One night, two months ago, three men in black cloaks, riding on big, black horses came to my home. They wanted to talk alone with my father. After they were done talking, the men came out, and my father put some gold coins in his wallet. They took me on their horses, and we rode out of town. I was scarred. My father didn't even say goodbye." saying this she started to sob again, and Strider stroked her hand and waited patiently offering her his silent support. After she had composed herself again, she continued.  
"When we got out of town, we met up with a bunch of hideous, deformed creatures, and they laughed when they saw me. They followed the men on the horses, running after them on foot. No one talked to me until we made camp. I was farther away from home then I'd ever been. Then they started to question me" she closed her eyes, trying vainly not to see the faces of the men of which she spoke.  
"They hit me, over and over again. They continued to ask me where 'it' was. I didn't know what they were talking about, so I couldn't tell them. This made them madder. They eventually gave up, and gave me to the ugly creatures."  
Strider had readily guessed what these 'creatures' were, and his face paled, and anger burned in his soul at the thought of them harming, or even touching just one hair on this sweet child's head.  
"They were horrible! They had whips, and chains, and red hot pokers, but it seemed to make them happy when they hurt me, especially my arm. After every cut on my arm, they would pour a misty blue liquid on it, and it felt like fire. I don't know what it was, but it hurt so... so bad, and it made me want to stay awake, so I couldn't sleep." she began to shake and cry again, and Strider felt tears gathering in his own eyes. This was enough for anyone, especially a child. A child should never have to face pain like this, ever.  
She continued. " Then I think that I had them convinced that I didn't know what they were talking about, so, they tied my hands and feet, and threw me over one of their black horses, and took me back home. My father wasn't happy to see me at all." at the way that she said that, he could tell that fact pained her most of all. "He didn't even talk to me, and I don't think that I would have gotten any better at all, but my sister helped me that best that she could. My arm still hurts a little. And then, I spilt wine on an important person who was over, and Father got really mad. He threw me out of the house, and said... said, that h-h-he never want- ts to s-see me ag-agin-n-n..." here she broke off into uncontrollable sobs, and her entire body convulsed.  
That was the story that she told Strider. Sometime during the recounting of the horrors, Strider had ended up sitting on the bed with little Arell in his arms, rocking her slowly back and forth as she choked out her story. She had stopped talking, and sat there crying wordlessly, as he whispered words of love and comfort to her in Elvish, knowing that she wouldn't understand, but also knowing at the same time, how soothing they were.  
"My Father ga-gave m-m-e to thos-se a-awful peopl-le, he doesn't-t c- care about m-m-me. No-nobody lo-loves me, I don't-t want to b-be ali-live any mo-more...." she couldn't seem to stop crying.  
Her saying this saddened Strider beyond words, no one at all should ever feel this way, least of all a child. She felt alone, abandoned, and needed someone to tell her that they cared, and mean it. He knew what to do.  
He squeezed her tighter, and said, "Sweetie, that is not true, I care. And if you want, I will take you to a place where there will be so many people to love you, hat you won't know what to do with them all. Hmm? How does that sound?'  
"To good to be true." she said honestly.  
"Well, it is true Arell, trust me."  
"Ok," she said sleepily "I trust you."  
"Good, I'm glad."  
Her eyes slid slowly shut, and she drifted off into the world of sleep. Strider had made a decision. He would take Arell to Rivendell.  
  
. 


End file.
